Captain Boomerang let out a dry chuckle.
"Haha, it's nothing. Just want to head back and catch some sleep."
"Is that so?"
Hong Fei's tone was flat, devoid of any inflection.
"Yeah, exactly. The sun's made me drowsy. Thought I'd take a nap."
His words came out faster, as if afraid to linger on the explanation.
Hong Fei studied him in silence for a moment. Captain Boomerang's eyes darted nervously, unable to meet his gaze.
"Alright," Hong Fei said finally. "Now's not the time for sleeping. Everyone, follow me inside."
He turned and led them back into the room.
In the living room, Hong Fei took a seat. The three men stood across from him, their postures stiff and obedient.
Hong Fei extended his hand toward the tabletop. A brilliant blue light erupted from his palm, projecting a three-dimensional image of a city. The view zoomed in steadily, focusing on a towering building.
Captain Boomerang recognized it immediately.
"33 Liberty Street. Federal Reserve Bank of New York."
Hong Fei glanced at him.
"Correct. Have you investigated it?"
The man nodded quickly.
"Yes, thoroughly. I scouted the area, even snuck inside to take a look. But the defenses are airtight, and the security system's a fortress. I gave up after two days."
"Very good. It's our target."
The three men gasped in unison, their shock palpable.
Hong Fei waited for their reaction to settle before asking calmly, "What's the matter?"
Captain Boomerang spoke first, his voice trembling.
"Boss, there are only four of us."
"So?"
"This..."
He gestured at the projection, shaking his head.
"This is impossible."
Hong Fei shook his head.
"Nothing's impossible."
Captain Boomerang fell silent, though his expression screamed disbelief. Deadshot stood to the side, his brow furrowed.
"You seem to have a problem?" Hong Fei asked directly.
Deadshot licked his lips.
"Yeah. I've been trying to leave the bad stuff behind. I don't even want to be a hitman anymore. And now you're asking me to rob a bank? One of the most heavily guarded in the world?"
Hong Fei's response was immediate.
"Then what's the meaning of you being alive in front of me right now?"
The emphasis wasn't just on being alive—it was on being alive in front of him. Deadshot understood. He didn't want to die. Between compromising his principles and never seeing his family again, he'd choose the former. And he suspected Hong Fei wouldn't hesitate to use his family as leverage if pushed.
Over the past few days, Deadshot had grown increasingly uneasy thinking about how Hong Fei had retrieved them. The way he'd eliminated Chato Santana without hesitation only reinforced his belief that Hong Fei was the type to kill without blinking.
He quickly changed his tone.
"Actually, it's negotiable. It's not that I can't do it. I'm just not a professional. You know I'm a hitman—I'm more accurate with a handgun."
Hong Fei's response was matter-of-fact.
"If you don't know how, you can learn. If you can't learn, you can still be obedient."
"Then I have no problem," Deadshot said quickly, seizing the out.
Hong Fei turned to Killer Croc.
"What about you?"
Killer Croc nodded.
"I'm fine with anything."
"Good." Hong Fei continued, "The United States has twelve Federal Reserve Banks. New York was the second to be established, but it's now the largest gold vault in the world, storing gold and currency worth over 400 billion U.S. dollars. This time, our target is simple: only the gold."
The holographic projection displayed a green beam of light shooting straight from the street into the bank.
"The vault is buried more than twenty meters underground," Hong Fei explained. "Besides the solid bedrock of Manhattan Island, it's reinforced with alloys and surrounded by detection equipment. Forget tunneling in—our only option is the front entrance."
Deadshot and Captain Boomerang exchanged uneasy glances, their eyelids twitching at the prospect. Killer Croc, as always, remained impassive. The projection shifted, zooming into the building's interior. Every wall, even a potted plant, was rendered in crisp detail. Four figures materialized, armed and methodically eliminating security personnel as they advanced.
The fallen guards were marked with red Xs, littering the floor until it was practically covered.
"Breaking in from the front isn't hard," Deadshot muttered. "Just kill everyone in sight. But there are only four of us. We can't possibly take out that many people, especially with the Police and National Guard closing in from outside."
Hong Fei adjusted the projection, focusing on the entrance.
"The hostages will handle the entrance," he said. "They'll form a human wall to block anyone trying to get in. But we don't have enough hostages inside yet. Before we enter, we'll need to herd the surrounding crowd into the bank and make sure no one closes the doors. From now on, don't interrupt me. Listen until I'm done."
Deadshot pressed his lips together and nodded.
"The vault twenty meters down is divided into over a hundred storage rooms," Hong Fei continued. "Our target is the largest one. According to the data, it contains 230 tons of gold from various countries—though that part doesn't concern us. The vault isn't accessed through a door but a steel mechanism weighing about ninety tons. To open it, we need three keys."
He paused, letting the information sink in.
"Accessing the storage room requires the same three keys, which are held by the accounting, management, and security departments. Coincidentally, all three will be present the day after tomorrow during a gold extraction mission. Now, here are the finer details. Once we're inside, we'll first..."
Half an hour later, Hong Fei finished his briefing.
"Got it?" he asked.
"Got it," the trio replied in unison.
"Any questions?"
Deadshot raised his hand immediately.
"We can get in, sure. But how do we get out? And how the hell are we supposed to move over two hundred tons of gold?"
"Getting out isn't the hard part," Hong Fei said. "Plan one: blow up the front door, scatter the hostages, and disappear into the chaos. Plan two: we take you with us when we move the gold. Don't ask me how we'll transport it—that's classified. Your choice."
Deadshot frowned, clearly struggling to make sense of it. Captain Boomerang kept his head down, his eyes darting nervously. Killer Croc stared intently at Hong Fei, his expression unreadable but undeniably puzzled. Finally, he spoke up.
"I'll take the second option."
Killer Croc nodded in agreement.
"Second option."
Captain Boomerang shrugged.
"Who wouldn't pick the second one?"
"Good," Hong Fei said. "Honestly, the whole operation is straightforward: get in, empty the vault, get out. Simple as that. Any other questions?"
The three exchanged glances, each suppressing their lingering doubts, and shook their heads one by one. Hong Fei didn't elaborate further.
He extended his left index finger and tapped the table three times. The nano-armor left behind three drops of black liquid metal, which rapidly shifted in color and shape until they transformed into three pairs of contact lenses—thin as a cicada's wings and nearly invisible.
"Put them on," he ordered.
The three of them stared at the scene before them, their faces a mix of shock and suspicion. Under Hong Fei's watchful gaze, they reluctantly donned the equipment he'd provided. With a snap of his fingers, their HUD displays flickered to life, projecting screens before their eyes. As they each wrestled with their own thoughts, Hong Fei began his explanation.
"What you're seeing now is just the basic interface. Once the mission starts, your location and progress will trigger detailed path instructions and prompts. All you need to do is follow them."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"I've provided you with new outfits. They'll keep your identities concealed visually. But masking your movements beyond that—that part is up to you."
"Remember," he continued, his tone sharp and deliberate, "there are three rules. First, do not cross the boundaries marked in your display. Second, do not deviate from the mission prompts. Third, do not speak to anyone, under any circumstances. Is that clear?"
The three exchanged glances, each catching the astonishment mirrored in the others' expressions. They answered in unison, "Clear!"
"Good. Prepare yourselves. We leave for New York tonight. The address will be sent to you later. Familiarize yourselves with the equipment before we depart."
With that, Hong Fei turned on his heel and left, leaving the three standing in silence, unsure of what to say.
---
Later that evening, acting on Arthur's tip, Hong Fei made his way to a derelict pier on the outskirts of the city. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rust. Two gangs were conducting a transaction here.
On one side stood an arms smuggling group; on the other, the False Face Society, a notorious gang originating from Gotham that had since become New York's dominant underworld force. The exchange was taking place in an old, crumbling building littered with metal debris.
As both sides displayed their cash and goods, Hong Fei descended from above, his Cross-blade gleaming on his back. He landed squarely between the two groups. Instantly, weapons were drawn and aimed at him. Faces twisted in confusion as they took in his full-coverage iron armor.
The arms smugglers stood to the left, the False Face Society to the right. Hong Fei turned first to the smuggling group's leader.
"Relax," he said calmly. "This doesn't concern you. We'll discuss business later."
Then he pivoted to the False Face Society.
"The False Face Society?" he asked, his voice low and cold.
The gang's leader glared at him.
"Who the hell are you?"
In a blur of motion, Hong Fei's blade flashed. The Cross-blade pierced cleanly through the leader's skull. Gunfire erupted instantly, but within a minute, every member of the False Face Society lay dead. Not a single one escaped, nor did they manage to call for help amidst the chaos.
The arms smuggling leader, having heard Hong Fei's earlier words, was quick to halt his men. He watched, wide-eyed, as the False Face Society's bullets bounced harmlessly off Hong Fei's armor. The man moved like a whirlwind, his blade slicing through enemies and even cleaving bullets midair. The leader couldn't help but feel a surge of relief at his decision to stand down.
Sheathing his blade, Hong Fei walked over. He carried several cases of the False Face Society's money, tossing them toward the smugglers. Banknotes scattered in the wind, raining down like confetti. He pointed to the cases of weapons and equipment.
"The money's yours. The goods are mine. Do we have a deal?"
Blood pooled across the floor, severed heads staring blankly at the ceiling. The leader surveyed the carnage, nodding with frantic enthusiasm. Hong Fei stepped forward, his boots crunching through the gore. A dozen arms dealers scrambled back, weapons trembling in their hands.
"Relax," he drawled, flashing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You're here to do business, aren't you? I've got a deal that might... interest you."
The leader swallowed hard, forcing his legs to move.
"What... what do you want?"
His voice cracked.
Hong Fei's laughter cut through the tension like a blade.
"I need some big toys. The bigger, the better."
His grin widened.
"Think you can handle that?"